Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Belarus and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Lucky Dragons to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Justin Hinds & The Dominoes. All the underground hits.
All New Age Steppers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masters at Work record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pole,
T.S.O.L.,
D'Angelo,
Pulsallama,
Ultimate Spinach,
Gong,
Drexciya,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Schoolly D,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Marmalade,
The Saints,
Soft Cell,
Connie Case,
Eve St. Jones,
The Alarm Clocks,
Second Layer,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Chrome,
The Fortunes,
Jeff Mills,
Al Stewart,
Flamin' Groovies,
Rufus Thomas,
Ultra Naté,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Carl Craig,
Bootsy Collins,
Harry Pussy,
Franke,
The Remains,
Donny Hathaway,
AZ,
Nick Fraelich,
Amon Düül II,
Buzzcocks,
Brick,
Popol Vuh,
Toni Rubio,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Max Romeo,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Electric Prunes,
Panda Bear,
The Dave Clark Five,
Sandy B,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Robert Hood,
A Certain Ratio,
Television Personalities,
Make Up,
The Dead C,
Sight & Sound,
The United States of America,
Fear,
Marine Girls,
Ice-T,
Blake Baxter,
Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.